


Within Pentagrams

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Sadism, not meant to be 'good'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A piece made in accordance with the incredible ciels-lingerie on tumblr!The Undertaker is a terrible bastard and I'm a terrible person but we're both still chillin'...but only one of us is about to sexually assault Ciel.





	Within Pentagrams

“...Sebastian..?” Ciel’s voice dripped out of his throat, confused and overwhelmed. 

Sebastian screamed.

It was all he could do.

Ciel’s small, pale hands felt around his eye, burning red, and Sebastian struggled again, knowing it didn't help. He was trapped, more than anything; pinned to the pentagram he had made the mistake of stepping upon. 

He knew it was his own fury that was flooding Ciel’s mind, the bond of their contract too strong to keep Ciel lucid, instead falling upon its basest power to make the holder weak so the demon could do his work, for it was usually only lethal moments that could possibly have made a demon so furious as this. 

Undertaker grinned cruelly. 

The bastard was holding Ciel’s hip with one hand, gingerly pulling Ciel’s fingers away from his eye with the other. He knew what he had done, he knew that the best way to make Ciel weak was to make his demon more powerful. 

Indeed, as Sebastian thrashed against bonds not even the devil himself could have snapped, snarling horribly and letting blood spill from his mouth from where he had bitten his own tongue, Ciel was as docile as a sleepy kitten. 

His head was so full of Sebastian’s fury and concern for his lord that Ciel couldn't even register what was wrong, hardly able to move, his awareness long having been tucked away somewhere deep in his thoughts, where, usually, the demon didn't have to worry about his prey fighting back. 

Only now, it wasn't the demon preying on Ciel. 

The Undertaker lifted Ciel easily onto the counter, positioning Ciel’s obedient hands around his shoulders like he was posing a porcelain doll.  _ Oh _ , did Ciel ever look like a porcelain doll, pale and sweet-mouthed, lips pink and plush, far too much for a young man old enough to marry, eyelashes lacy and long, far too long for such a dignified young man, too beautiful to be real. Undertaker smoothed down Ciel’s hair, letting his fingertips tangle in it.

Sebastian fought again, choking on the blood in his throat and the burning fury in his chest, only succeeding in earning a sly, smug look from Undertaker.

“You know, Ciel,” he began, still watching Sebastian, “I  _ did  _ always tell you I would someday take you in my shop. Who could've guessed it wasn't to make your coffin? Sweet little Earl, your dog hasn't had a biscuit in such a long time.”

Ciel made a weak sound, clearly conveying his confusion, but not capable of fighting back--or hardly even realizing what was going on. 

“ _ I'm  _ not your dog, of course,” Undertaker continued, finally dropping his gaze back to Ciel, who was trying to turn his head to see Sebastian, or at least, what was snarling so loudly. His movements were slow and watery, obedient as Undertaker hooked Ciel’s chin with his thumb, twisting him back to look into his scarred face. “I'm just here to take the meat your dog didn't eat fast enough.” He purred lowly, running his tongue along his exposed teeth obscenely. 

“ _ Ciel _ !” Sebastian managed, knowing that his fury was what was keeping Ciel from being able to fight back, but still too angry to contain it. 

His lord made to turn, again, but Undertaker grabbed his jaw quite roughly and leaned in, kissing Ciel.

Ciel made a weak noise, some sort of protest, but quickly melted into Undertaker’s arms and mouth. The little one always had such an affinity for gentle affection, and he wasn't even really present, how could he have known it wasn't Sebastian, or how could he have even known if he wanted this or not?

Sebastian screamed, an unholy sound that was too much on his human form, and he vomited tarrish fluid into the pentagram simply from the overexertion of trying to break free.

Ciel’s slender arms were actually  _ holding  _ Undertaker’s neck, not knowing what was going on but knowing that he liked the way the reaper’s mouth pressed against his own, not fanged and familiar like Sebastian, of course, but good enough for his disjointed mind.

Sebastian made it worse by fighting. He was sapping energy from Ciel, he could tell by the way the purple glow of his eye, reflecting off Undertaker’s cheek, was fading.

Undertaker jerked Ciel’s thighs to the edge of the counter and pressed his own between them, hands dropping to Ciel’s thick, feminine hips. 

Sebastian screamed again.

That was  _ his  _ place, between Ciel’s pale thighs,  _ his _ right, to hold and adore over those hips Sebastian intentionally tried to encourage with too many sweets. Ciel, of course, belonged to  _ him _ . 

Undertaker thrusted his hips against Ciel’s, groaning perversely as Ciel reacted with a soft sound in his throat, pulling away from Undertaker’s kiss.

Undertaker let his hand trace over Ciel’s thigh, falling out of Sebastian’s sight, between Ciel’s legs. The shell of Sebastian’s master suddenly gave a loud, surprised cry, back arching as Undertaker felt him up in whatever way he saw fit.

Not even Sebastian was allowed to go so far without his lord’s permission, trying to hang off of kisses that he, the  _ demon _ , prayed would have left Ciel wanting even more than Sebastian, the young man somehow able to disconnect that affection to lust.

Sebastian’s snarl suddenly became a sob, and Ciel tried to turn again.

Undertaker took the opportunity to bury his mouth in Ciel’s neck, hand on Ciel’s hip slipping up to his waist to pull him as close as possible.

With Ciel’s head facing up towards the ceiling, Sebastian could see a very different kind of pentagram reflecting out of Ciel’s eye, one that swore Ciel to Sebastian and Sebastian to Ciel, body, mind, and soul.

Ciel let out a gasp as Undertaker bared his teeth, trying to seek out Sebastian’s eye again. 

Sebastian had always known that the perverted bastard wanted Ciel -- to be honest, Sebastian hadn't met many people who still felt blood flowing to their groins who  _ didn’t  _ want Ciel -- but he never could have assumed that the Undertaker would get off on knowing Sebastian was around, too. 

It was the torture that Undertaker was high on as he sank his teeth into the milky skin of Ciel’s neck, not fanged like Sebastian but cruel enough to draw blood, and Ciel let out another absent cry. 

Undertaker pulled away just enough to make sure that Sebastian saw the red, smelled the iron, before he was dragging his tongue over the wound. Ciel shuddered, and as Undertaker suckled at the wound with horrible sounds spilling from Sebastian, he began to slowly unbutton Ciel’s coat.

He dragged Ciel to the edge of the counter and then around it, showing him off to Sebastian with a sadistic glee.

Undertaker gloated over his prize by painstakingly unbuttoning each of the little black buttons on Ciel’s blue jacket, sliding it off of his slender shoulders in some mockery of the reverence with which Sebastian would have performed the same action.

He released Ciel’s neck as he folded the jacket torturously, even leaving Ciel on the counter as he brought it over and threw it onto the floor, half of the fabric falling within the pentagram Sebastian was pinned to the ground with. Sebastian could smell Ciel, his blood, his purity, and Undertaker’s vile formaldehydic scent laid superficially over the sleepy lavender and vanilla of his lord. 

Ciel had tried to get down from the counter, drawn towards Sebastian as the demon attempted to call upon that most basic part of their contract, and was lifted easily by Undertaker, carried back to the other side of the counter.

He began to untie the black silk bow around Ciel’s throat, holding Ciel to his hips as he rutted forward against Ciel’s thighs. He pulled it free and wasted no time in unbuttoning Ciel’s vest, smug gloating finally fading into lusted hunger. 

He captured Ciel’s lips again with his own, crueler, harder, and Sebastian noted how Ciel resisted as Undertaker pried his mouth open. Ciel’s eyes couldn't focus on Undertaker, though he was whimpering and looking right at him, and all it took was a hand on Ciel’s neck to keep him in place as his mouth was filled with the reaper’s tongue. 

Sebastian thrashed again, feeling his shoulder pop out of its socket, but he hardly cared, not when Ciel’s eyes were threatening to flutter shut as his mouth was devoured by Undertaker, too absent to recognize that he wouldn't even have wanted Sebastian to do this.

Undertaker teased a hand through Ciel’s hair as he pulled away, biting Ciel’s lip roughly as if he could take it with him.

“Little kitten, I always knew you would taste so sweet.” He purred, returning to the still-bleeding bite on Ciel’s neck as he began unbuttoning Ciel’s blouse, ruffled with lace meant to hide how slight his chest was.

Undertaker seemed to decide that mocking Sebastian wasn't as fun anymore, that he was too needy to play forever, and he sharply tore Ciel’s shirt open, pulling it off of him and letting it fall to the ground before kicking it away carelessly. 

Sebastian screamed again, vainly, feeling his eyes burn with tears as his fury lost the ability to fight against the pentagram’s demands.

Ciel’s delicate torso was exposed, from his deeply set collarbone to the little dip under his ribcage to the smallest bump where his stomach muscles rested over his hips, and Undertaker immediately set about defiling every part of it with unworthy hands.

He pushed Ciel until he was lying on his back, pinning his delicate wrists to the countertop and leaning his body over the far smaller one, long strands of white hair falling from his shoulders to cover Ciel like a half-drawn curtain.

Ciel shuddered and tried to twist one of his hands free, pulling down while curving his fingers into his palm, but he was still watery, too slow. He cried out when Undertaker reacted roughly, nails biting into pale skin and pulling his arm up to Undertaker’s mouth. Ciel wriggled with an uncomfortable sound and tugged uselessly as Undertaker ran his tongue along Ciel’s wrist, down to the inside of his elbow where he sank his teeth again.

Sebastian tried to scream again through his wrecked throat, only succeeding in drawing more blood into his mouth.

Ciel tried to aim a kick, positioning his knee like he could at least push Undertaker away from his hips, though it was clear Ciel didn’t even know who was looming over him.

No sooner had he tried to lift his knee up, however, than Undertaker had grabbed it and pushed Ciel’s leg against his stomach, leaning over Ciel’s chest and holding his leg in place with his own body. 

Undertaker kissed Ciel’s collar, clearly pleased with how quickly it made Ciel relax, and closed his mouth around Ciel’s nipple.

Sebastian tore against the nothingness holding him in place, screaming heinously, knowing and yet not caring that if he fought any harder he was liable to ripping his own arm off.

Ciel’s back lifted off the counter with a surprised and strangled moan, and Undertaker moved to pin Ciel by the hips instead of his wrists, which were left where Undertaker put them. Sebastian could only watch in horrific despair as Ciel cried out. Undertaker bit down  _ hard _ on the delicate skin of Ciel’s chest, lifting away and tilting his chin back to admire the bloody ring left around his nipple, pink and unused to any such treatment.

Ciel tried to cross his arms over the wound, having no doubt already forgotten how he got it, and re-discovered the bite on the inside of his arm, the space around it turning purple and brown as it began to bruise. Undertaker jerked Ciel’s hips to the counter’s edge again, having shoved him across it slightly, and hooked his thumbs into Ciel’s waistband.

Sebastian snarled, a loud and guttural sound that had to have resembled metal scraping against itself, eyes beginning to leak black tar down his cheeks as he called upon any power he had that could have freed him.

“Oh, please, Sebastian,” Undertaker sneered, pressing his hips against Ciel’s just to make it worse, “you can't possibly be upset that someone else got here before you, not when you had so many years’ head start. Honestly, this is your own fault. Maybe if you'd actually done what you wanted to, you wouldn't care so much now.” 

Ciel’s mismatched eyes suddenly cast themselves up to see the demon at the door, and his brow furrowed with some weak recognition.

“Sebastian..?” Ciel murmured, though as Sebastian tried to call out, he drew upon their contract, and Ciel’s eyes lost focus just as quickly. 

In a single crude movement, Undertaker jerked Ciel’s trousers over his hips and let them fall to the ground, kicking them to pile up with the tattered remains of Ciel’s shirt.

Ciel shuddered, but in no way seemed to register what had happened, barely even reacting to Sebastian’s horrible, inhuman sounds as Undertaker shot him a mirthful, victorious look, kneeling out of Sebastian’s sight and brushing his hair away from his face.

That was all Undertaker was doing, showing off that he had beaten the demon, won a prize rightfully Sebastian’s, the human who was laid out on the counter like an entire meal in a single body. 

Undertaker’s hand closed around Ciel’s thigh, pulling it away from the other one, and Ciel cried out sharply. His back lifted from the counter again, head tilting back and staring right through Sebastian without comprehension. 

One of his hands closed around a lock of white hair still draped across his stomach, but he didn't know enough to pull it. Sebastian doubted that actually would have done anything anyway. 

Undertaker’s clawlike nails dug into Ciel’s thigh, fragile skin turning white and then red as blood swelled around black-painted nails. 

Ciel writhed sharply, fingers twitching and closing his hands into fists, curled but not enough to actually hurt himself. His feet flexed through his shoes, their little heels shifting, and he shuddered deeply with a moan.

His voice wavered, higher than it should've been, definitely. He shivered, hips canting against some action Sebastian couldn’t see. Undertaker made a loud slurping sound, and Sebastian knew it was only meant to torment him. Ciel writhed, hair tangling up as his head lolled about uselessly, eyes unable to focus on anything except the pretty reflection of their own purple glow. 

Sebastian heard a sharp tear, and had to glance down to see that the shoulder seam of his coat was ripped, now, his loose arm inside it still being tugged uselessly.

He couldn't feel any amount of pain from it, only from Ciel bleeding quietly as he was abused. 

Finally, Undertaker stood again, looming over Ciel with his teeth exposed, not as uneven as Grell’s but crooked enough to make the bites on Ciel unique. He traced Ciel’s sternum with a fingertip, which was easily seen through his nearly-translucent flesh, following the lines of his ribs.

“I could shatter every one of these bones, couldn't I, sweet little Ciel? Sebastian can't save you, not until you’re actually dying.”

Ciel didn't respond. He didn't have the capacity to anymore.

Undertaker chuckled darkly, hands trailing down to Ciel’s hips again.

He tugged them to the edge of the counter, situating his own hips between Ciel’s.

Sebastian screamed again uselessly.

Ciel didn't cry out; he just whimpered.

His eyes scrunched shut.

Undertaker moaned, long and low, his nails digging into Ciel’s hips. He leaned in over his prey, watching Ciel’s lip tremble. Undertaker tucked his hair over his shoulder, sighing contentedly as Ciel began to shudder.

Ciel’s nails dug into his palms, cutting crescent moons into his flesh, and he finally cried out weakly, trying to hide his face in his shoulder.

Ciel whined again as Undertaker drove his hips forward, a mercilessly hungry grin as Ciel’s choked voice failed to form words. He sighed again, cursing deeply, no longer caring that Sebastian was screaming like a beast.

“You are  _ so good, _ little kitten. God, you really are  _ heavenly _ .”

He purred, cooing as Ciel began to cry, tears running down his cheeks. He traced one with a fingernail and leaned over Ciel to lick the other away as Ciel squirmed and trembled. The young man’s hips were swiveling, trying to get away from the unwelcome invasion, but only really succeeding in easing Undertaker further inside of him. Undertaker groaned, licking his lips as he watched Ciel struggle. He held Ciel’s slight waist with only barely gentler hands, keeping him firmly in place as he fucked into the virgin.

Ciel’s head lolled helplessly, his chest rising and falling too quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut and his little hands gripped anything they could, finding Undertaker’s sleeves and holding on tight.

Well, as tightly as he could.

Undertaker kept his hips pressed against Ciel, unmoving as the boy whined and no doubt clenched around him, trembling and trying to adjust. His chest, so slight, its elegant curve interrupted by the bite leaking blood onto his ribs, heaved unevenly.

Sebastian sobbed as Ciel did.

This wasn’t  _ right _ , this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, Sebastian could hardly even fathom how he had ever let this happen, much less that he couldn’t control it, anyway. 

“Come on, Ciel, you’re doing so well, you can do better. My goodness, aren’t you relaxed enough with that horrible demon taking away all your strength?” Undertaker cooed, running his nails down Ciel’s chest, to his stomach, up his thigh. “Not, I suppose,” He continued, biting his lip as he tried to pull back and Ciel’s cry was interrupted with a sob, “like you had much strength to begin with, huh?”

Ciel whined, high, a strangled little mewl as Undertaker closed his hand around Ciel’s small cock, too confused, or maybe pained, to be hard. 

Sebastian was hard; he hated that he was. He hated everything except Ciel, in that moment, only able to focus on his own failure, how much his master needed him, how little he could do to help. 

“Ciel,” Undertaker continued, sterner, “you really had better relax. I couldn’t possibly make you bleed like this and enjoy it.” 

Then he giggled, a crude lilting of sound from his throat. “Well, maybe I could.” He admitted, pulling his hips back sharply and driving them forward just as hard. Ciel sobbed loudly, a confused, wounded hiccup, and his taut stomach trembled. His legs, which had been so limp and lifeless, pressed against Undertaker’s sides, like they could squeeze him out or hold him still. 

Neither of those things happened, and Undertaker settled into a languorous pace instead, holding Ciel’s cock, toying cruelly, squeezing and stroking with no concern for what it did to Ciel. 

With each thrust forward of Undertaker’s thin hips, Ciel cried out, so softly, the little  _ aah-ahh-aah _ s speeding up as Undertaker did. 

Ciel had relaxed, only fractionally, as he hardened from Undertaker’s constant toying, and Undertaker dropped his head down, cursing, hair falling over his eyes again. 

He leaned in, close, pressing his mouth to Ciel’s again sloppily. 

Sebastian felt his head spinning, screaming and crying out for so long without air, yet he somehow still found the strength to rip his other arm from its socket as he pulled against it, pinned back towards the center of the pentagram. 

Ciel whined, face flushed, and tried to turn away. At some point during the assault, blood from his throat had traveled up to his cheek, beautiful red, thinned by his tears. He managed to get his mouth away from Undertaker’s, who didn’t really seem to care. He hauled Ciel closer, slightly upright. His head lolled back, eyes  _ so  _ dim. 

Sebastian stopped screaming.

It wasn’t helping anything, anyway.

Ciel seemed almost asleep, so exhausted, all the energy drawn from him, and he whined weakly as Undertaker raked his nails through his hair, taking it in a fistful and dragging down.

His eyes locked onto Sebastian’s, and there was finally some kind of recognition.

“Sebastian?” He mouthed. 

Undertaker groaned. His grip in Ciel’s hair tightened, and he tugged as he thrusted almost upright into Ciel. 

Ciel cried out, a strangled whimper, maybe a moan, and his eyes rolled even further back. He went limp, only held up by Undertaker’s crude grip.

The hand not keeping such a strangled grip on Ciel’s hair grabbed the counter, wet and shaking.

He curled over Ciel’s body and drove his teeth into Ciel’s shoulder again, so forcefully that blood spattered across Ciel’s neck.

Ciel couldn’t even cry out anymore. His fingertips twitched weakly, but that was it.

Undertaker groaned into Ciel’s flesh, biting down harder, licking up blood hungrily.

Sebastian screamed, because Ciel didn’t.

Undertaker let out a snarling groan, and his erratic thrusts slowed. 

Slowly, he released his hold on Ciel’s shoulder, blood weeping from the bite, and he let go of Ciel’s hair.

Ciel’s body, limp, collapsed to the counter, and Undertaker shuddered, stepping away.

And then he laughed.

“Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear. I don’t quite think I thought this through.” He chuckled, crossing back around the counter. “I suppose I’ll just clean up my mess later. You’ve got one of your own, butler, don’t you?”

He swept his foot through the salt on the floor, breaking the pentagram, and Ciel screamed almost immediately as Sebastian was freed, the contract snapped back to its original purpose.

Ciel sobbed, choking horribly, his wrists, so delicate, curled over his chest.

Sebastian staggered to his feet, rolling his shoulders, pulling his arms back into place.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on Undertaker, strangle him with his own intestines, but all he knew, all he saw, was Ciel’s pale body, shuddering and bloody. And it was all he cared about.

He crossed the space between them and tried to curl his hands under Ciel’s shoulders, tried to lift him, but Ciel, with his eyes closed and body broken, only sobbed and pushed back weakly.

“S-S-Bastian…” Ciel hiccuped. Sebastian knew what it meant. 

_ Why didn’t you save me, Sebastian? _

Sebastian stripped off his own jacket and wrapped it around Ciel, who moaned weakly, painfully.

He lifted Ciel, his lord, too small for such a mature young man, too damaged for such a young soul, too dependant upon a demon who couldn’t even keep him safe.

He cradled the limp, somehow still warm body against his chest, and crossed back over the pentagram’s threshold.

It was all he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> I made this piece inspired by a series of asks on ciels-lingerie, and it's probably my first attempt to write anything even remotely like this...but I'm trying to branch out! I hope you like this the same as all my other black butler works :)


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